Chapter 57.
Inside the suffocating opulence of the grand salon, the air was thick with the scent of blood-wine and the predatory arrogance of the South. Gorgon stood preening, his hand still clamped on Rhiannon’s arm, presenting her like a harvested vintage to his lingering associates. But Rhiannon wasn't listening to the bidding. She was listening to the heartbeat of the earth. Now, she thought. She didn't reach for a weapon; she reached for the rage. The neon-green spark in her chest didn't just flicker- it detonated. Using the iron shackles as a lightning rod for her own magic, she slammed her bound wrists together. The resulting shockwave of kinetic energy sent a ripple through the marble floor, throwing the nearest two vampires back into the mirrors. The room erupted. Rhiannon was a bl
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